What's Wrong with Shawn?
by PapayaK
Summary: 'Mr Yin Presents' tag Angsty one shot


_A/N Angsty one shot - it wants a Shules chapter, but I'd need some encouragement in order for that to happen_

**oO0Oo**

"What's wrong with Shawn?"

"Nothing."

How many times was a different version of that same exchange going to occur? Gus wondered.

A few days ago they had dragged Juliet away from City Hall and made her come have breakfast with them. She had laughingly allowed herself to be hijacked (not 'kidnapped' – they had a secret pact not to use that word around her for 4-6 weeks. Gus had added the clause: or until they had an actual kidnapping case. Because if they did need to solve a kidnapping, it would be really awkward to not say the word.)

But she had picked up on Shawn's strange new habit, "What's wrong with Shawn?"

"Nothing."

Why didn't anyone just ask Shawn himself? Most of the time Shawn acted, moved and spoke like his normal self, so why didn't they just ask him?

Because he wouldn't give them a straight answer. Gus was the source of straight answers. Unless things were dire. Shawn only gave straight answers when things were really bad. And no one wanted things to be really dire, so they asked Gus. And Gus replied innocently to Buzz, to the horchata guy, to the mail carrier, and to Juliet: 'Nothing.'

It didn't help that most of the time – with the possible exception of the mail carrier – the question was asked out of genuine concern for Shawn. They cared about him – they were worried about him – especially after everything that had happened – but they didn't understand him.

Gus was then blessed with a brief respite where no one asked 'the question,' but two days later they were at a crime scene in a park looking at random bits of clothing strewn along a path. Gus was pretty certain that Shawn had already solved the case and was just waiting for the best moment to do his reveal when Lassiter snuck up behind him, "What's the deal with Spencer?"

Gus sighed.

Later that afternoon, following an impressive display of brilliant psychic-ness (Shawn hadn't done a reveal since before Yin showed up and a 'vacation' like that always added new vigor to his shenanigans.) The Chief pulled him aside quietly, "Is there something going on with Mr. Spencer that I should know about?"

Gus wanted to point out that she had just ended her sentence with a preposition, but ever the gentleman he simply responded, "Nothing of which I am aware…"

It was finally Henry who reminded him that he did not live alone in Shawn-World. They'd come over for their weekly dinner and, having finished his dessert, Shawn had already gone out to the Blueberry. He'd called 'Shotgun' in spite of the fact that he had no competition – couldn't be too careful, you know.

Henry stopped Gus at the door, "Explosion or reboot?"

Gus looked at him with relief. He had forgotten that there was someone else in the world that didn't need to ask what was wrong with Shawn because they already knew:

Yang had been there – everywhere – in their first encounter. She'd been at the restaurant, the hotel, the boardwalk, the station, the office. She'd popped up every time and Shawn hadn't noticed. He hadn't _seen_ her.

The lapse had frightened Shawn almost as much as the bomb and it had affected him deeply. The only thing that had kept him sane at the time was the fact that Yang was behind bars. He didn't need to look for her in every crowd.

But that was changed now. Yin had walked away. In spite of the fact that Shawn had seen him – could have touched him – he had walked away. So now Shawn watched. He watched every face in every crowd in every place. It was unsettling to say the least to those around him, especially since he didn't really understand that he was doing it or how it affected those around him. Gus understood, but that didn't make it any easier to watch.

Finally there was a limit to how many facts and images Shawn could keep at the forefront of his mind at one time. (Which explains why he sometimes seemed to forget obvious things.) The rest needed to be sorted and filed for future reference and he had become quite adept at both his 'filing' and his 'retrieval' systems over the years – Henry had seen to that.

The number of items that Shawn's mind could juggle at one time was impressive. As Henry and Gus were _keenly_ aware, he was currently keeping several hundred faces in a constant sort pattern – looking – waiting – hoping for one to pop up more than once because when it did there was a good chance that it would be Yin…

But he couldn't keep it up forever.

Sooner or later he would either, as Henry had said, 'explode' or 'reboot.'

'Explosions' came in several different forms and levels of severity. Usually they consisted of an extended period of _hyper_-hyper-activity, and included something along the lines of verbal diarrhea. Sometimes they were worse – those usually involved Shawn leaving – running off on his own – which scared Henry to death, since Shawn wasn't always completely cognizant while he ran.

'Reboots,' while spookier, were easier to manage. Shawn simply shut down during a reboot. Sleeping, staring or simply silent, he was absent just as effectively as he was when he took off on his bike. The only thing to watch out for during a reboot was the occasional sleepwalking.

Gus looked out at his friend who was playing with all the knobs on the dash while he waited impatiently. _'Explosion or reboot?'_ Henry had asked, and Gus wasn't sure if he was asking if either had happened, which one he anticipated, or which he preferred.

"Neither," was the answer in any case.

Henry scowled but nodded. "Call anytime." – _In case he needs help…_

"He's fine." Gus reassured the worried father, and went out to the car.

**oO0Oo**

He doesn't drive them home, though.

He drives to the boardwalk and parks where they can watch people passing – the sun has just set and the lights are coming on. It's golden hour, but it doesn't feel golden, "Seen anything yet?"

Shawn's eyes never stop scanning faces, "Nope. But he's got to be here."

"He may not be."

"Well – not _here_, here, maybe – but somewhere…"

"Shawn…"

"Gus. I have to."

"I know. I'm not telling you to stop, but you're freaking people out."

"What?" At that he glances at Gus, puzzled, before he resumes scanning. How can he be freaking out other people? But Gus usually knows what he's talking about.

"You'll get him."

They're silent for a few minutes; Gus relaxed, Shawn sitting up, looking out the wind shield, his knee bouncing, eyes roving.

"You'll get him." Gus repeats.

"Will I get him before he hurts someone else?"

Gus looks away because the question is sincere. Shawn really _really_ wants the answer to be yes – but no one can tell him that. And he knows it.

Silence reigns again.

"You have to tone it down."

"Can't"

"Shawn."

"Can't"

The clock on the dashboard measures minutes of quiet.

"Will," comes the late retort.

Shawn's eyes pause and glance down before stubbornly resuming their travel, "Can't."

Gus notices, "Will."

"Can't."

"Will."

And this is why Shawn loves Gus. Because Gus is right. And Gus helps him. And Gus always _always_ knows – _and does_ – just what he needs when he gets away from himself.

"Don't want to." He switches it up, but hides the smirk.

"Don't care."

"Won't" but they both know the stubbornness is now – somewhat - forced.

"Will." Gus's smirk is simmering, but not it's quite cooked through yet.

Then Shawn sighs and forces himself to close his eyes. He shakes his head, reluctantly sending the faces into a new and prominent file in his head.

"Have to." He whines.

A deliberate and significant pause.

"Will."

Only now the word has a different meaning: 'You WILL catch him.' There is trust and confidence and knowledge and _expectation_ in that one word. Feelings Shawn has lost sight of, but he will trust his buddy to hold those ideas for him.

He looks at Gus, silently asking for reassurance.

Gus gives him a roll of his eyes and a "C'mon son!" to say, '_are you kidding me? Of course you'll get him. No question.'_

Shawn sits back then and closes his eyes and Gus knows it's not a reboot over which Shawn has little or no control but a conscious choice to take back his own mind.

They're almost home when Shawn - Gus had begun to wonder if he had actually fallen asleep - holds out his fist.

"You know that's right." Gus murmurs as he meets it.

At least now people will stop asking…


End file.
